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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27515794">pretend with me</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/GygasTC/pseuds/GygasTC'>GygasTC</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Undertale (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst and Porn, Ecto-Genitalia (Undertale), Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Soul Sex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-08 04:42:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,894</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27515794</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/GygasTC/pseuds/GygasTC</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>They knew they likely weren't each others', but it was nice to pretend.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>W. D. Gaster/Sans</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>pretend with me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“<span><span>i'm not stupid.” Sans says with a frown, and Gaster knows that better than anyone else, and he shifts closer to the smaller skeleton. Sans seems to enjoy the closeness, but his hand never lets go of Gaster's own, and he has a hunch his assistant fears he'll disappear again. </span></span></p><p>He never knows how long he has, so he can appreciate the sentiment.</p><p>“<span><span>i know it's probably not you... well, uh, not </span></span><em><span>my</span></em><span><span> you.” With a sigh and a slump of his shoulders, Sans addresses what they both know the other has long since realized. “what i mean is...well you're not from here. you're not the gaster who belongs here, you just suffered the same, uh, accident.” </span></span></p><p>Gaster watches his assistant for a long moment. “I'd come to the same conclusion, myself.” He admits, and a look of resigned acceptance washes over Sans. He watches Sans for a moment, taking in the way defeat settles so heavily on his shoulders, before adding, “I wouldn't be opposed to...pretending, however.”</p><p>Sans looks up at him for a moment, stunned but processing what he's offering, and his smile slowly begins to grow as the novelty sets in. “i like that idea, dings.” He decides, and if Gaster thought that he was eager after being thrown through timelines for what felt like <em>years</em>, Sans was absolutely <em>desperate</em>.</p><p>The smaller skeleton climbs into his lap, leaning up to press their teeth together with all the eagerness and messiness of their first time together, in Gaster's office.</p><p>Well, not <em>their</em> first time, but with his own Sans...</p><p>“stop thinking.” Sans growls up at him, and his hand squeezes Gaster's own sharply like a cruel jerk back to reality. “as far as either of us are concerned right now, this is <em>your timeline</em>, and i'm <em>your assistant</em>.” He leans up so their skulls are touching, eyelights boring into Gaster's own. “i'm yours.” He whispers, and Gaster feels himself nod softly as he curls his arms around Sans.</p><p>“Mine,” He reassures his assistant, and he leans down so their teeth meet once more, feeling how Sans melts into it, how the sharp tips of his phalanges tear into his shirt as he grips harshly at the fabric. He moves his kisses down over Sans' mandible, and he conjures his magic to form a tongue so he can drag it over the familiar notches and grooves of his assistant's cervical spine.</p><p>Sans gasps and tilts his skull to the side, letting Gaster press his magic into the most sensitive spots that had him clinging desperately to him. He feels Sans cupping his jaw and dragging him back up to kiss him again, and he delights in the familiar feeling of Sans' magic as he parts his teeth so Gaster can slide his tongue in to slot against his own.</p><p>There's a feeling when their magic meets, like static, that Gaster has missed dearly. The way his assistant melts against him tells him that Sans feels it too, and he slides his hands under Sans' shirt, stroking over his ribs with skill and precision born of repetition, and Sans pulls away from him with a growl as he tears off his hoodie, then his shirt. He takes Gaster's hand and guides it up into his rib cage, and Gaster knows exactly what he wants.</p><p>
  <span>Neither of them were good with words, so he cups his hand around Sans' soul, feels its warmth wash over him, and Sans kisses him again as the waves of longing and heartache and despair hit him. He can feel his love, bright and strong like he's been there all along. Sans' anger at being left behind, at his inability to help him, his relief and his joy... </span>
</p><p>Gaster strokes over the his soul reverently, and Sans quivers in his arms, whimpering into their kiss as waves of pleasure rack his body. He conjures a pair of hands and has them trace over Sans' ribs and spine, gentle and soft in a way that's more comforting than arousing, and he can hear the contented sigh Sans breathes as he begins to come apart from all the stimulation.</p><p>“g-gaster...” Sans whispers, and Gaster smiles down at him as he begins to massage over the soft walls of Sans' soul. Sans chokes out a moan, and the conjured hands move to his pelvis where he eagerly lifts his hips so they can shimmy his shorts down. Gaster can feel his magic, hot and formed already, and he lifts a thigh up just as his fingers trace over Sans' iliac crests. His hips stutter and he grinds his magic right against Gaster's thigh, and the reaction is beautiful.</p><p>He keeps teasing his assistant's pelvis, pinching and stroking the crests before dipping down to rub over his sacrum, and Sans sobs as he rocks against his thigh. “You're so beautiful, Sans...” He purrs as he rolls the soul around in his palm gently, gliding the sharp tips of his phalanges against its soft shell and loving the strangled moan he gets for it. He can feel the way the praise lights him up, even if Sans buries his face in his chest to hide the way his skull heats up at the praise, and he's floored that even after all this time his approval still has such an impact on Sans.</p><p>He wonders if every version of them is this loyal, if every Sans is always this absolutely driven by him, and he hopes so. He thinks a (unlikely) constant of them always being together, loving one another like this, would be beautiful, and void owes them that much for all of their heartache.</p><p>Sans claws at one of the hands on his pelvis, dragging it towards his magic, and Gaster lets him guide it to where he needs it most. He slides his phalanges over the swollen folds, feeling how wet his assistant was already, before plunging two of his digits into Sans. Sans' hips never stop rocking, and he's basically riding his phalanges in Gaster's lap, face buried in Gaster's chest as he sobs out his pleasure.</p><p>He gasps when small hands creep up under his shirt, burying themselves between ribs and stroking over them, between and behind them, and Gaster forgot how talented Sans' hands were, how they could reach areas too small or delicate for most. He moans, and he feels Sans grin into his chest.</p><p>“stars, i love your voice, doc...” He murmurs, repeating the same motions a few times, and Gaster doesn't try to stifle his noises, not when he can feel the pride that blooms through Sans' soul with each little noise he pulls from him.</p><p>Sans' fiendishly talented phalanges move lower, playing over his spine, dancing around the notches and grooves. They tease along the length of it until they reach his pelvis, and he traces the rise of his crests before skirting down to make quick work of his belt, and Gaster can't help the way his hips buck in anticipation. Sans has his pants undone and shoved down his thighs with surprising haste for all his general laziness, and he takes Gaster's magic in hand, stroking over it slow and teasing.</p><p>“i missed this...” Sans whispers as he lifts his hips, and it takes Gaster a little longer than necessary to realize what he wants. He let's the secondary pair of hands disappear and <span> pulls the hand he'd had buried in Sans' ribs out in favor of gripping his pelvis with both hands to guide his hips closer. He presses their teeth together, briefly. “I missed </span><em><span>you</span></em><span>.” He admits, and Sans loops one of his arms around Gaster's neck, and the other snakes into his rib cage.</span></p><p>
  <span>His hand cups around his soul, and smirks up at him, eyelights bright with arousal as he lines their magic up. “prove it, dings.” He challenges, and Gaster takes the bait, carefully repositioning them. Sans settles back against the ground, hand still clenched tight around Gaster's soul, and he makes sure to hold nothing back as he sinks into Sans' magic.</span>
</p><p>Sans lets out a content sigh as Gaster hilts himself. He knew the small skeleton could feel how much he loves him, how much he missed him, how even through the euphoria of their coupling, nothing feels as perfect as the feeling of uniting after so long... Just seeing him after so long, and knowing that Sans still feels so strongly, still loves him...!</p><p>When he begins moving, the rhythm was as deeply ingrained as the memories of Sans himself, and the familiarity strikes something in Sans as well, if his grin is of any indication. Gaster smiles down at him, and he can't help but feel like they'd never parted.</p><p>Th scene is so perfect, the feelings so familiar, that he almost feels like nothing ever tore them apart. The way Sans looks up at him, with all of that sheer love and adoration, and how he eagerly rolls his hips up to meet every thrust, the way he groans and arches his spine off the ground as Gaster speeds up...</p><p>The hand that Sans had taken his soul in fell out of his rib cage as Sans leans back on his elbows to get more traction, pressing his hips up as hard as he can, and Gaster can feel where he stretches the limits of his magic with each deep thrust. Every time they move, static-like sensation races up their spines, and it isn't going to take them long to reach their peak.</p><p>It never does.</p><p>Sans reaches up and paws at him blindly for a moment before he can finally get a grip on Gaster's shirt and pull him down into a kiss, and Gaster uses the position to drive into him harder. He feels Sans tighten around him like a vice before he's throwing his skull back and moaning a broken version of Gaster's name as he comes. He keeps moving, taking him through it, but the way Sans is clenching around him drags him over with a groan. He hilts himself and Sans whines as his magic fills him, and they slump together as they begin to come down from it all.</p><p>Gaster rolls them over so Sans is sprawled over him, something so fluid and normal, he realizes, and the smaller skeleton happily makes himself comfortable as their magic dissipates. Gaster wraps his arms around him, and Sans shimmies up his body a bit until he can press their teeth together. Brief and sweet, and Gaster almost likens it to a thank you or a parting gift, though he doesn't want to think of the latter.</p><p>Doesn't want to think of how little time he probably has left.</p><p>“hey doc, mind if...uh, we stay like this for a while?” Sans asks, almost hesitantly, and Gaster knows the 'until you have to leave' is there, even if it's unsaid, because they both know he won't remain. He'll keep popping in and out of timelines until he finds his original, even if this felt like the right one for a little while...</p><p>The way Sans' skull heats as he asks has Gaster smiling at him, though, a distraction enough to keep him out of his own head and pressing him closer as he nods in agreement.</p><p>“I'd like that.”</p><p> </p>
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